


The Bigger Picture

by imafriendlydalek



Series: Picture This [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Photographer, Artist Steve Rogers, Fluff, Justin Hammer is an ass, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/pseuds/imafriendlydalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out, Tony realizes, going to museums is actually pretty nice if you're with someone so passionate about the art. Especially if they also share your love of making Justin Hammer look like the idiot he is.</p>
<p>(This is the follow-up to We Just Clicked, starring tiny!Steve the feisty street photographer and a thoroughly amused Tony Stark)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bigger Picture

**Author's Note:**

> By popular demand, here is Steve and Tony's date at the art show opening. Enjoy!

Steve had insisted they meet at MoMA instead of Tony coming to Brooklyn to pick him up. That would be totally out of the way, he’d argued, and besides, “why fight New York traffic when there’s a perfectly good subway system?” 

Tony had tried to reason that the words “perfectly good” and “subway system” did not belong anywhere near each other in reference to the MTA, but Steve had cast him such an adorably menacing sideways glare that Tony had relented and agreed. It was just a short walk for him from the Tower to the museum anyway, and Happy would probably be glad for the night off - he still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Pepper.

Their coffee not-date after Tony had come to Steve’s class had gone great - they’d ended up getting lunch too since neither had seemed willing to leave, until finally Steve had to go teach another class and Tony had to finally stop shirking responsibilities and respond to the many, many missed calls he had. Steve wasn’t the kind of guy Tony usually went for - heck, he didn’t even usually go for guys - but maybe that was what drew Tony to him all the more. There was something about Steve that drew him in, that made him want to figure out this strange and seemingly contradictory person.

He had caught himself replaying their conversation over the next two days as they passed, far too slowly, until the opening at MoMA. It had taken quite a bit of argumentation to convince Pepper to relinquish the two tickets since she had been planning to go herself. But the weekend couple’s spa retreat that Tony had booked for her and Happy had finally done the trick. 

Which was good, since there was no way Tony was going to break this date.

His phone dinged as he was passing Rockefeller Center with a text message from Steve, informing him that he was just getting off the subway, so Tony fired back a reply telling him to head towards the exit by Radio City Music Hall; they could meet there and walk the rest of the way together. Steve confirmed just a few seconds later, so Tony picked up his pace.

Steve was already waiting there when Tony arrived, his hands tucked into the pockets of his duffle coat as he watched the throngs of tourists streaming past with a look of amusement. 

Tony caught himself smiling as he watched the wind ruffle Steve’s blond hair. “You’re itching for your camera, aren’t you?” he asked by way of greeting.

Steve turned towards where Tony’s voice had come from, a smile spreading over his face as he caught sight of him. “Yeah I am,” he replied unabashedly. “How’d you know?”

Tony shrugged before brushing a quick hello peck against Steve’s cheek. “You’re a street photographer on one of the busiest streets in the busiest city in the country. I get the same way around tech. It’s like an itch, this need to go and tinker and do and make, but I can’t follow it, and damn if that isn’t the worst part.”

He was babbling, he realized much too far into his monologue, but Steve was beaming back at him amusedly.

“Yeah, it really is.”

Tony caught his gaze and returned the smile. “Shall we head on then? Maybe looking at other people’s photography will help with that itch.”

Steve let out a huff of laughter as he hooked his arm around the elbow Tony was offering. “Actually, it usually makes it worse.”

“You should probably see a doctor about that.”

Steve nudged Tony in the ribs with his elbow. “Maybe I should.”

“Luckily for you,” Tony pointed out as he led them around a particularly large pothole, “I happen to be a doctor. Well, of engineering, not medicine, but who’s counting, really?”

“Um, I think the FDA might?”

“Well it’s a good thing this is not an actual medical affliction then, I suppose.” They were just a block from the museum, so Tony pulled Steve to a stop. “Hey listen,” he started. “There might be some press outside with cameras, so-”

Steve pulled back, slipping his arm out from under Tony’s. “You want us to look like just friends?”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked, reaching out to get Steve’s hand back. “No it’s not that at all. I just wanted you to know that a lot of people are going to be trying to get my picture, so that you would be prepared.”

“Oh,” Steve replied, the furrow in his brow easing again. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“And also maybe try not to pick a fight if they’re using the wrong lens or something,” Tony added with a grin as he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s gloved hand.

Steve narrowed his eyes as he smirked back. “I’ll try to contain myself,” he replied sarcastically.

***

They managed to navigate past the handful of society journalists and photographers outside the museum without an incident. Tony stopped to pose for a few pictures - the press was always kinder when he played along - while Steve headed inside. At least Tony wouldn’t have to worry that Steve was just looking for some time in the limelight. Once inside, they deposited their coats at the coat check and Steve led the way up to the special exhibition. It was clear he knew his way around the museum well. They passed through the permanent collection on the way up, “to visit the old favorites,” as Steve explained. He paused every few paintings to point something about it out to Tony or just to admire.

Pepper had dragged Tony to enough art events over the years for Tony to be able to BS his way through a museum, but somehow with Steve it was like a revelation. He spoke passionately about the art, his fervor evident in every word, and Tony caught himself looking at the art with newfound appreciation.

“Maybe I should get that Pollock of mine out of storage,” he muttered to himself.

Steve stopped mid-sentence and just _looked_ at Tony. “You have a Pollock?” he finally asked incredulously. 

Shit, Tony hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He nodded slowly, adding a shrug for good measure.

“You _own_ a painting by Jackson Pollock and you keep it in _storage_?!”

Tony just nodded again. “In my defense, Pepper says a controlled environment is best for it anyway. Those things are tough to conserve. Honestly, who uses _house paint_ for art? That’s just bad science.”

Steve let out a huff and shook his head, glancing up at Tony through his eyelashes. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

It was Tony’s turn to let out a huff as he wrapped an arm around Steve’s bony shoulder to pull him closer. “How about ‘You know, Tony, I’d love to come by some time to take a look at it’?”

Steve actually batted his eyelashes up at Tony. “I would like that very much.”

Tony smiled down at him fondly. “Good. That’s settled then. Nothing like art to help me get someone to come back to my place.”

There was a sharp jab in Tony’s ribs. “Ow!” he yelped indignantly, unwrapping his arm from around Steve to protect himself from further attack.

“I probably would have come even without the lure of abstract expressionism.”

Tony rubbed the spot where he’d been poked. “Oh baby, I am the _king_ of abstract expressions.”

“That’s not even-” 

Steve’s rebuttal was drowned out by the rather sudden appearance of a group of other visitors, and Tony found himself suddenly wishing his date were a little better-suited for hiding behind. He moved so Steve was between him and Justin Hammer anyway, just for good measure.

“Honestly, I don’t see what the big hype about this stuff is anyway. I mean, sure, Hammer Industries sponsors these things since it’s a nice write-off, but really, a five-year-old could do this.”

Tony could practically see the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck bristle at those words. He watched as Steve sucked in a sharp breath and seemed to grow about three inches taller. Steve was switching into “fight mode,” Tony could tell. He should probably do something to stop this, but somehow he really didn’t want to.

“I mean, look at this one,” Hammer was saying, gesturing to a large painting with broad strokes of bright color. “I’ve got assembly bots that could do this.”

“At least they’d be doing something productive.” The words slipped out of Tony’s mouth. Damn his lacking brain-to-mouth filter.

Hammer straightened and pivoted towards where Tony and Steve stood. A wide, fake smile spread over his face when he recognized him. “Anthony. Wouldn’t have expected to meet you here. Usually it’s just your secretary at these events.”

Tony narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “She’s the _CEO_ , actually, which I know you know, so nice try, Hammer.”

Hammer laughed three times, a painfully fake laugh, as he postured for his group of followers. “Well, who can keep track of these things when they have their own Fortune 500 company to run, you know?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Tony shot back. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, Justin, we were just on our way upstairs.” He nodded his head towards the escalators and Steve followed.

“Not a good friend, I suppose,” Steve asked when they were out of earshot.

“God no. Quite possibly my least favorite person in the world.”

Steve smiled down at Tony, his eyes dancing. He’d positioned himself in front of Tony on the escalator, a few steps up, so that he was a little higher than Tony. 

It was strange, looking up at him, but Tony found he quite liked it. He reached out to where Steve’s hand was resting on the handrail and picked it up lightly, his thumb brushing over Steve’s knuckles.

“You know, it’s funny,” Steve said, his eyes flicking up from watching Tony’s thumb to catch Tony’s gaze, “here I thought I was going to be the one picking a fight with him for knocking the art.”

Tony laughed and squeezed Steve’s hand. “Well,” he said with a practised flirtatious drawl, “the night is still young.”

It was in fact. They’d made it about halfway through the exhibit, a retrospective of portrait photography over the past 50 years, when Hammer and his entourage showed up again. Steve had managed to ignore the first few snide remarks about “snapshots, not art”, but he lost it somewhere around “how is this any different than the photos our photographer takes for press use?”

It was a thing of beauty, to watch Steve take down Hammer, who was almost foot taller than him, never mind the difference in their societal positions, with a few swift, carefully chosen and beautifully articulate words. Tony had had quite a few verbal stand-offs with Hammer over the years and was well familiar with the way Hammer looked when he’d been taken down a few notches and forced to realize his own lacking intellect, but this - this was a thing of beauty. The only thing missing was a video recording so Tony could rewatch this every day. Too bad the security feed from the museum probably didn’t record audio.

Steve was seething by the end of his lecture, his brow furrowed and his jaw set, and it was all Tony could do to keep himself from tearing his beautifully angry date’s clothes off in the middle of that art museum and having his way with him.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Steve by the hand and steering him towards the elevators. “I have a very _pressing_ need for a private lecture on post-modern American art. Might even let you have a look at my de Kooning.”

Steve was slightly out of breath and didn’t have a chance to reply before Tony pushed him into the elevator, against the wall (carefully, lest Steve break) and kissed him (considerably harder). There was a muffled noise from the smaller man just before hands reached up to tangle themselves in Tony’s hair. 

It was like all that beautiful, adorable feistiness was being redirected into kissing Tony back. Sure, Tony was the one pressing Steve into the wall of the elevator, but Steve was definitely the one holding the reins, determining where this kiss was going. God, it was amazing. Tony could really get used to this. He wanted more, and not just tonight.

And that was when there was a throat being cleared behind him. They pulled apart quickly, heads whipping around as they realized that they hadn’t been alone in the elevator.

Tony flashed his best Tony Stark grin at the two women as he pulled his suit jacket straight. “Nice party, isn’t it?”

The elevator slid to a stop then, thank God, and Tony gestured for the women to step out ahead of them. 

“Enjoy the rest of the evening,” he called after them.

“Probably not as much as you will,” the taller of the women replied, looking back at them over her shoulder and winking at Tony.

There was a quiet huff of laughter next to Tony, and he looked down to see Steve smiling up at him. “You’re going to be quite the handful, aren’t you?” Steve said with a devious glint in his eye.

Tony clutched his chest in mock indignation. “Me?! _I’m_ going to be a handful?! I’m sorry, little kettle, which one of us just picked an argument with the CEO of the US military’s leading defense contractor?”

“Technically, both of us did,” Steve said with a casual shrug. He started towards the coat check, leaving Tony to catch up.

“Yes, but tearing Hammer a new one is basically part of my job description.”

Steve smirked at Tony as he handed the man at the coat check desk his ticket. “Well, schooling philistines is mine.”

“Fair enough,” Tony conceded as he fished out his own coat check ticket. He slipped a twenty into the tip jar after the man returned with his jacket and then shrugged the coat on, not bothering to button it. It had been warm enough earlier. “Well then, Tiny Handful of Trouble,” he said, pulling the collar of Steve’s jacket straight. “Shall we go see what devious acts we can get up to?”

“Gladly,” Steve replied with a broad smile as he accepted the hand Tony stretched out towards him.


End file.
